. He
accepted the drink Carr rose to offer. He lifted the glass and smiled at
Thompson.

"Here's to success," he toasted. "I believe," he went on between sips of
wine, "that things are going to look up finely for us. I sold a truck
and two touring cars this afternoon. People seem to be loosening up for
some reason. You ought to get your share with the Summit, Wes. Snappy
little machine, that."

"You rising business men," Carr drawled, "want to learn to leave your
business at the office when you come to my house. Now, we were just
discussing the war. What sort of a prophet are you, Tommy? How long will
it last? Sophie was wondering if it would be over before all the
eligible young men depart across the sea."

"Well," Tommy grinned cheerfully, "I'm no prophet. Not being in the
confidence of the Allied command, I can't say. I'd hazard a guess,
though, that there'll be plenty of good men left for Sophie to make a
choice among. I can pass on another man's prophecy, though. Had a letter
from one of my brothers yesterday. He was at Mons, got pinked in the
leg, and is now training Territorials. He is sure the grand finale will
come about midsummer next. The way he put it sounds logical. Neither
side can make headway this winter. Germany has made her maximum effort.
If she couldn't beat us when she took the field equipped to the last
button she never can. By spring we'll be organized. France and England
on the west front. The Russian steam roller on the east. The fleet
maintaining the blockade. They can't stand the pressure. It isn't
possible. The Hun--confound him--will blow up with a loud bang about
next July. That's Ned's say-so, and these line officers are pretty
conservative as a rule. War's their business, and they don't nurse
illusions about it."

"In the meantime, let's talk about selling automobiles, or the weather,
anything but the war," Sophie said suddenly. She pressed a button on the
wall. "We're going to drink tea and forget the war," she continued
almost defiantly. "I won't ask either of you to stay for dinner, because
I'm going out."

Carr's house sat on a slope that dipped down to a long narrow park, and
beyond that to a beach on which slow rollers from the outside broke with
a sound like the snore of a distant giant. Along that slope and away to
the eastward the city was speckled with lights, although it was barely
five o'clock, so early does dark close in in that latitude when the year
is far spent. And